"The Lonesome Drifter"

I watch him through my window as he passes by.

Does he have family, I wonder.

Or is he destined to be alone forever?

His head id down as he endures the cold.

Feet shuffling briskly to an unknown destination.

From the warmth of my own home, I see his breath in the cool night air.

I am at once caught up in my own imagination.

I feel as though I can almost hear his foot falls echo in the street.

I feel the weight of the bag he carries, slung over one shoulder.

I an aware that no one will offer this man a ride, to help him reach where ever it is that he is going.

I want to run out into the street and switch lives with this unknown man, if only for a day.

But I do not.

My feet remain planted firmly on the ground by the window.

I watch as he walks into the shadows and out my sight.

I wonder if he will find a place to spend the night.

Or will he even survive it?

Will his body be found in the morning?

Frozen solid and still.

Only to be buried in an unmarked grave.

No funeral for him, no weeping family.

No one will even know that he is dead.

I watch as this lonesome drifter is swept by the wind, out of my life.

{Dedicated to: all nameless faces.}